Unlikely
by Pukkina
Summary: Two people who share only one common trait...a hatred for each other...are left behind and find they're all each other has. What else is there to do...but search for answers? RE crossover. Also called Seven Years on Red Eye thread.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note-Hm. So I feel daring, since I am like, the first person to create a crossover of two completely different things. A movie about a psychopath holding a woman hostage on a plane, and a book about the end of the world and Jesus Christ. Don't look at me weird. I already have a pretty good idea of where I want this story to go, and personally, I think it's going to be pretty awesome. My favorite book+my favorite movie? Cheers. And by the way, I've voted myself the Queen of Crossovers. That's all I write lately, it seems:)**

"And in Charles Keefe's reinstatement press conference he stated of his conversion to Christianity in light of the recent attempts on the lives of him and his family. He quotes: 'I feel that God protected us that day. We so narrowly missed being hit by that bomb, it must have been in Jesus's plan that we live.'"

Lisa clicked off the tv in disgust. "It was a missile. And I saved your lives, you moron."

She tried not to feel so resentful. It was hard, though, in light of the recent events. After she'd nearly murdered Jackson Rippner in her own home after that eventful flight to Miami, he'd spent a brief time in the hospital being treated for various wounds caused by various instruments.

Then there was the trail. Or Black Friday, as Lisa chose to refer to it as. In short, he got off. Not enough evidence pointed towards his key role in the Keefe assassination. Plus, he countersued Lisa for his various wounds, and convinced the jury that she acted on some sort of mental disease. The evidence just didn't add up in Lisa's favor. So now, Jackson Rippner was just freely roaming the streets somewhere. Lisa didn't know where. He hadn't contacted her since they'd indirectly spoken during the trial. And this lack of communication alone was killing her.

She didn't know enough about him to determine whether or not he was the type for revenge. She truly hoped not. And it scared her, knowing he could be anywhere. Outside, watching her. That seat-kicker in the movies, the man who asked for money on the street. The shadow following her home.

So Lisa did the only thing she could think of. She worked. A lot. From early in the morning to late at night, and business trips had become increasingly more frequent.

Lisa slung her purse over her shoulder and dragged her suitcase behind her as she left the spacious room of her Chicago hotel. She really shouldn't have wasted those ten minutes watching the GNN Broadcast. Now she was increasingly late, and it wasn't like she'd gotten anything out of it. She wasn't even sure why Keefe had told everyone that. No one really cared about his religion except the fanatics anyway.

Lisa had grown up in an extremely religious household. Church on Sundays, baptism, and confirmation were all very big. Lots of talk of "being saved" and "walking in the light of the Lord" were very common. She pretended to go along with it, for her father's sake. But she'd always felt out of place and heathenistic. She felt that if there was a God, he would have protected her in the parking lot. She was a good person. As Jackson had said, sometimes bad things happen to good people. And they did. But if there was a God, and a Jesus Christ, they wouldn't let them happen.

The taxi ride to the airport was quick and Lisa ran to check in with five minutes to spare.

It was only when she finally slid into her seat, a window, that she let herself relax, leaning her head against the cool dark pane. She closed her eyes and exhaled deeply. She heard a young man help an elderly couple with their bags a few seats ahead. The kind tone of his voice almost reminded her of Jackson, Jackson helping her, Jackson in the Tex Mex. But it was different, since he sounded sincere.

She heard someone sit next to her and buckle up.

"Ever flown Pan-Con before?" a raspy voice next to her asked.

Lisa opened her eyes and turned to her seatmate, a polite smile plastered on her face, and froze.

"Hey, Leese," Jackson Rippner's broad, self-confident grin was all she saw before it all went black.


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey, Leese," Jackson Rippner's broad, self-confident grin chilled her to the bone. She quickly rose but he smoothly caught her wrist and sat her back down.

"Jackson, stay away from me," Lisa ordered shakily. "Just leave me alone."

"Hm," he tapped his chin thoughtfully. "No. I need you. And if you don't turn the volume down a little bit your mom dies. So just sit back until after takeoff, eh?"

Lisa's hands shook terribly but she remained silent as the captain spoke over the intercom.

"...sit back and enjoy. Looks like we're the 7018 to London, and I'm your captain Rayford Steele..."

When the turbulence had ended Jackson spoke again. "So let's cut to the chase. When we get to London you're going to make a little call. We can't when we're over the ocean, the phones don't work."

"Who are you murdering this time?" Lisa snapped.

"Chaim Rosenzweig. Ring a bell?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," Lisa admitted. "Wasn't he the guy who invented that Israeli crop formula a while back?"

"Bingo," Jackson nodded. "By assassinating him, Israel is forced to hand over the formula to our clients, who then plan to peddle it to anyone who can pay."

"So not only are you killing, you're stealing," Lisa felt her stomach churn. "Do you have _any_ morals at all?"

"Uh..." he thought. "No? But what do you say?"

"Do I even have a choice?" she groaned, the tears starting up. Jackson noticed and frowned.

"Come on, now, I hate when women cry."

"Chauvinist."

"Cry-baby."

Lisa glared at him. "Excuse me for having emotions."

"Emotions only succeed in dragging you down, Leese."

"And what did narcism get you?" she snapped. "A pen in the throat and stiletto in the thigh? Yeah, that's working great for you."

"Well, it got me out of jail, didn't it?" he bargained.

"Yeah, speaking of which, I thought you said you never lied," Lisa sneered. "You lied to get your ass out."

"I didn't lie," he grinned. "A little money exchanged hands, a few deals were made."

"You bought off the jury?" Lisa said in bewilderment. "You...what..."

"I did," he nodded. "Well, not exactly _me_. The company. How's that mental disease doing, Leese?"

"Bastard," she muttered under her breath, sinking back into her chair and staring out the window.

He smiled contentedly and settled back for the ride.

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Chloe was tired. Yet she kept driving down the dark road, heading back home to her college in California. She was still slightly annoyed by the argument she'd had with her mother before heading home. The nerve. The nerve of Irene Steele to call her uncaring. Chloe cared. Oh, yeah, she cared all right. She cared that her mother had lost her _mind_.

Irene had been on what Chloe's father, Rayford, called a "Jesus kick" for years. She'd gotten Chloe's younger brother Raymie into it, too. Chloe thought it was all well and good that she had something to believe in, sure. But it was when she tried to get Rayford and Chloe involved that they got mad.

In short, Chloe wasn't big on the whole idea of religion. It was way too paganistic for her. And anyway, who gave a crap? She was just way too much of a dealer with facts. She had to see it to believe it...and could she see this Holy Triduum crap? No...

Chloe sighed as the sun began to come up. As she continued down the road, she swerved to avoid the crashed car in front of her. The car jerked to a stop and she caught her breath, shocked, then climbed out.

Looking ahead, she saw the devastation ahead of her. It wasn't just this car. The wreckage strewed on for miles, and fires were started. Luckily, she spotted some cops ahead.

"Hey, what's going on?" she shouted to one. He glanced at her, and she noticed numerous cuts on his tired, anxious face.

"Honestly miss..." he ran a hand through his hair. "I really don't know."


	3. Chapter 3

Lisa awoke when she heard the man in front of her speak.

"Trouble, miss?"

"Yes. My Harold's gone!"

"I'm sure he just went off to the restroom and will be right back."

"Would you mind checking?"

A pause. "Not at all."

"Oh, and could you take a blanket?"

"Ma'am?"

"I'm afraid he's gone off naked. He's a terribly shy man, he'll be embarrassed."

"Does your husband have epilepsy?"

"No."

"Sleepwalking?"

"No."

"I'll be right back." Lisa smiled to herself. What a nice man. She wished she met more like him.

Lisa stirred and Jackson stretched as several other people in the plane awoke. She leaned forward to peer into the old man's seat out of instinct. She gasped.

"Jackson," she choked out, pushing his arm. "The man! He's gone!"

"It's a big plane, Leese," he said in disgust.

"No! His clothes, everything! His watch, and look! A filling, right on top of his clothes! They're all left behind!"

Jackson sighed in exasperation and looked. He frowned bemusedly and shrugged. But Lisa saw the worried expression on his face as screams filled the plane. A blonde flight attendant raced down the aisle, tears streaming from her eyes. Lisa stood. Jackson caught her arm.

"What the hell did you do, Jackson?" she accused, pushing him away. "What did you do to all of these people?"

"Nothing!" he cried, running a hand through his long dark hair. "For once, I can admit I have no idea what's going on."

Lisa pushed past him and ignored his cries for her to come back. As she darted down the aisle she accidentally plowed into the man who'd helped the elderly.

"What's going on?" she begged him. He just shrugged helplessly and slid past her back to the old woman.

Jackson caught up with her and took her shoulders. Looking around, Lisa saw dozens of seats empty, all with clothes, glasses, jewelry, even hearing aids and such in a neat pile on the chairs. She began shaking as the captain came out from the cockpit.

"Everyone, please, return to your seats so we can figure this out," the handsome man ordered loudly. Lisa nodded and she and Jackson sat back down. Amidst the chaos she heard the nice man yelling for the upset people to sit. Finally Jackson stood up, disgruntled, and helped him.

Several minutes later the captain's voice came over the intercom.

"Folks, we're about halfway to our initial destination, but unfortunately they aren't landing any planes in London. We're going to turn around and head back to O'Hare. Fuel won't be a problem since, as I said, we're almost halfway. I urge you to remain calm, and once we're back in service phones will be available to call your loved ones, though I'm not sure you'll be able to get through. Again, please remain calm." Lisa could tell that he, like everyone else on the plane, had no idea what was going on but was staying collected for the sake of the passengers. He clicked off.

Lisa checked her watch a while later. It was almost five am. Great.

"Shit." She shifted irritably in her seat and Jackson looked at her.

"What's wrong now?"

"I'm going to miss my meeting," she sighed. He shrugged.

"I'm not going to get paid."

"Oh, poor baby," Lisa replied sarcastically.

"Yeah, well," he caught the mild look of relief on her face. "Oh, don't think for a minute that you're off the hook. You're still making the call. I was talking about my job in London after that."

Lisa's heart sank. "Oh."

"In fact," Jackson peered out the window and grabbed the phone. "It's time."

Lisa set the phone back in the receiver. "They don't work yet, genius."

Jackson cursed. "Shit. I forgot. Well..." He glanced helplessly around, and finally his gaze caught the nice man ahead of them, tampering with the phones. "Wait here."

"Hey," he uttered quietly, sliding into the aisle next to the man. He jumped.

"What?"

"Are you getting the phones to work?"

"No. I'm getting the modem hooked to my computer."

Jackson sighed. "Well..."

"Listen, if you want, I can tap out a message for you via email and if you get a response..."

"Really?" Jackson was relieved. "That'd be great. Um...the address is Thanks, man. Just ask for Cynthia, and if the large party is still coming in. From Lisa."

The man gave him a weird look. "You don't look like a Lisa."

"I'm not. Its for my...girlfriend."

"Uh...ok. You have a phone or anything that I can get ahold of you on? If she responds after the plane lands?"

"Yeah." Jackson gave him his number, and returned to his seat.

"Problem solved," he told Lisa smugly, and buckled back up.

"Go to hell," she snapped. Little did she know how literal people would take those words in the days to come.


	4. Chapter 4

Jackson heard the man approaching and turned.

"Hey," he greeted. Lisa looked up curiously. "I got an answer from your message. Really quickly, too. Surprising."

"Oh, good," Jackson replied quickly to prevent Lisa from speaking. "What's the verdict?"

"Cindy or wait, no–Cynthia, right? Says she is fine, but the large party is not coming," the man quoted. Lisa cheered inwardly. _Yes._

"What?" Jackson cursed loudly and drew heads.

The man shifted awkwardly. "The large party is-"

"Not coming, I understand," Jackson snapped. Lisa glared at him.

"Is the big party still here, or did they disappear as well?" Lisa questioned. Jackson swore several more times.

"Uh...by the air of her message, I think they're still here," he answered uncomfortably. "She said, 'No, he cancelled the reservation.'"

"Oh, okay," Lisa nodded cheerfully. The man gave her a polite nod and headed to use the restroom.

"Happy now, Leese?" Jackson snarled, rubbing his temples. "Now that this operation is officially fucked up?"

"Yes, actually," Lisa smiled contentedly. Jackson drew several deep calming breaths.

"So, when we land, we'll find a hotel until we can get out of Chicag-"

"We?" Lisa snapped her eyes to his. "Oh, no. When 'we' land, I'm getting as far away from you as possible."

"No, see, you're staying with me until Chaim flies over. He had a meeting in the States, so that means it was postponed. He'll be coming to the Lux in the near future, and I don't want to risk lovely Lisa running to the police."

"No..." Lisa felt tears forming and her anger bubbled. "I don't want to be stuck with you!"

"Well, its not my fault that these people disappeared!"

"It is that you're an ass!"

The man stepped back on his way back to his seat.

"Is there a problem?" he spoke directly to Lisa. Jackson shook his head.

"No, she-"

"Let me reword myself," he interrupted. "Miss, do you have a problem?"

_Yeah,_ she wanted to say. _Him! _But she caught Jackson's icy eyes boring into her head.

"No," she responded quietly, dropping her gaze to her wrung hands. "Just a little...stirred up after what happened."

He smiled sympathetically and leaned to pat her arm. Jackson glared at him. "Don't worry, ma'am," the handsome stranger consoled her kindly. "They'll find them." Lisa fed him a weak smile as he walked away.

"Good girl," Jackson crooned, mocking her. "When we get back to Chicago and the phone issue is straightened out, you'll call Cynthia back and ask when Rosenzweig reconfirmed his reservation for."

"Whatever," Lisa snapped, focusing her eyes on the seat ahead of her as the plane began its descent.

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Cameron "Buck" Williams, internationally known journalist, settled back into his seat and put his laptop away as the plane began to land. He was exhausted. It had been hard work, screwing with those phone wires and even more so convincing the beautiful blonde flight attendant Hattie not to write him up for damaging Pan-Con property. He'd talked her out of it by promising to contact her relatives for her. And Buck Williams always kept his word.

He'd done more socializing tonight than he'd planned to. First with that elderly couple, now with that jerk and the hotel. The redheaded lady had been nice, though, although he strongly suspected something not so great was occurring between her and The Jerk.

When the plane landed the captain announced they'd have to use the emergency chutes to exit the plane. Buck groaned.

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A few moments later, Buck sheepishly jogged past the other passengers to the terminal, rubbing the back of his bloodied head. That's what he got for trying to show off. Served him right.

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Lisa watched the technologically advanced man run past clutching his head and scowled at Jackson as he pulled her tighter to him. He ignored her and she surveyed the damage.

It looked like Martians had bombed from Earth. Planes were down, cars crashed, clothes and bags littering the runway. Even baggage trolleys were tipped over and crashed. Lisa decided that when people had disappeared, their vehicles had been left in motion.

She caught Jackson simultaneously eyeing the wreckage with bewilderment and she cocked her head.

"So the master of mind games himself can be puzzled?" Lisa rolled her eyes. Jackson shrugged with apparent annoyance.

"'Spose so."

They walked the rest of the mile in silence. When they finally got inside the terminal Jackson pulled her even closer in the crowd. She frowned.

"I'll remind you that if you are stupid enough to try and run away from me, there's absolutely no where you can go," he said as they squeezed through hundreds of people.

"What?" Lisa hissed.

"Look outside, Leese, at the gridlock," Jackson gestured at the window. "There's no way you could catch a cab, or, seeing its you, steal an SUV, since no cars are easily getting out of here, and none at more than a snail's pace."

"Fine," she snapped. "So what's your plan, then, Flash Gordon?"

"Unlike you, I have money," he replied smugly, pulling her by her elbow outside to a line of waiting cabs and limos. Hundreds of people were fighting to get one.

Jackson pushed forward to speak to a drive but the driver shook his head. Frustrated, they went back into the terminal.

"What are we doing?" Lisa asked in confusion.

"Jesus Christ, Leese, do you ever quit with the questions?"

"Do you ever quit being a prick?" she snapped back.. He glared irritably at her.

"We're somehow buying our way out of here, and those cabs aren't going to help," he explained. "They're just going to get swamped."

Lisa nodded as an airline captain with a suitcase brushed past them.

"Hey!" Jackson called after him. He turned.

"What?" he said it politely but impatiently, checking his watch.

"You got a way out of here?" Jackson nodded at the suitcase.

"No," he shook his head, then sighed. "Yes, but I"m sorry, its for flight crew only."

"Please, I'll pay whatever," Jackson bargained.

"Pay a cabbie."

"No, listen, I..." Jackson ran a hand through his hair, obviously racking his brain for something that gave them a greater need to get out than all these other desperate people. "The cabs are too dangerous, they're being overcrowded, and uh...they're too dangerous for..." the captain began walking away. Lisa swallowed.

"I'm pregnant," she blurted out. "I need to get home and the cabs are too dangerous."

The captain sighed. "Follow me."

Jackson raised an eyebrow as they ran after him. "Are you really?"

Lisa snorted quietly. "What do you think?" He chuckled, and they followed the captain outside.


	5. Chapter 5

A helicopter was waiting for them outside. Jackson helped Lisa up first and the pilot of the helicopter yelled something at the man who'd helped them. The captain quickly explained Lisa's predicament animatedly, and the pilot sighed impatiently as a blonde flight attendant joined the crowd.

Now, with Lisa, Jackson, the captain, the flight attendant, and the three additional pilots in the helicopter, the helicopter pilot was worried.

"I don't know if it can take the weight," he said warily.

"How much you guys weigh?"

"130," Lisa replied, adding on the pounds. She was, after all, pregnant.

"165," Jackson shouted above the chopper.

"120," the flight attendant said last.

"Fine," the pilot pulled on his headphones. "But if we start losing altitude, Rayford, you're going first."

The flight attendant sat on Rayford's lap due to space issues and then Jackson looked expectantly at Lisa.

"Oh, no," she shook her head.

"Leese, its that or you cling to the tail," Jackson shouted.

"Fine." She sat gingerly down and made a fist in case he dare touch her.

They started up in the air and Lisa felt sick.

"I'm Hattie Durham," the flight attendant extended a hand towards Lisa, the only other woman in the copter.

"Lisa Reisiert." She shook it.

"Where's this going, anyway?" Jackson asked the captain suddenly.

"Mount Prospect and the area around Chicago."

"So here's the deal, Leese," Jackson told her. "We'll find a hotel in Mount Prosp-"

"You expect to find a hotel in Proscpect?" the captain snorted. "No chance."

"Well, we need to, until we can get a ride into Florida, which won't be until planes are back in the air," Jackson replied irritably. The captain looked hesitant.

"Look, if its that important to you, you can..." he sighed, looking unsure. "You can just stay with me." Lisa startled. She knew that in the dawn of the crisis, all ethics and normality were being tossed out the window.

"No, we couldn't-" Lisa began politely, but Jackson interceded.

"That'd be great," he nodded. "Thanks."

"If you don't mind," Lisa added. The captain shrugged.

"I'm Rayford Steele," he extended a hand.

"Jackson Rippner," Jackson shook his hand over Lisa. "And Lisa Reisert, my girlfriend."

Jackson just smiled at Lisa while she glared daggers at him.

When they finally landed Rayford led Lisa and Jackson to his lovely suburban home, one which strongly reminded Lisa of her father's.

Rayford instantly dropped his bag and ran upstairs, yelling to Lisa and Jackson that they could use the phone.

"Jackson, I realize you don't want me to screw up the job, but please, _please_ let me call my parents and Cynthia," Lisa begged. She needed to, needed to know that they were okay.

"Fine. But after I need to call my guys."

Lisa instantly snatched it up and began dialing the Lux's number. Business first.

"Lux Atlantic Resort, this is Matthew." He sounded choked.

"Matt, its Lisa," she quickly responded. "Is Cynthia there?"

"No," he replied, startled. "Leese, haven't you heard?"

"No," Lisa felt her stomach muscles tighten.

"Cynthia...she killed herself when she found out her family all had disappeared."

"No," Lisa drew her breath in, sinking to the couch. "No, no, Cynthia wouldn't-"

"She did," now Lisa detected a tear in the young receptionist's voice. "And..."

"What, Matt?" Lisa replied, trying to be polite, but coming out more frantic. "Tell me."

"Thorton Mack called." Lisa thought. Thorton Mack...her father's neighbor.

"Yeah?"

"Your house...your father's house...its gone."

"What?" Lisa felt dizzy.

"Burned. He thinks it was because...the stove was left on." With no one to operate it...

"And...and my dad?" she asked. Though she felt she knew the answer.

"I'm sorry, Lisa."

"Bye, Matt," she whispered, then clicked off the phone and sank to the floor on her knees, engulfed in sobs. Jackson took one look at her before falling to the floor next to her.

"Sh," he took her in his arms. She gratefully cried into his shoulder, though she wasn't sure why. She hated him, hated him with every fiber of her being, and yet...she knew. She knew her mother had disappeared, she knew her father had, and she knew Cynthia was dead. And she knew that Jackson Rippner, no matter how much they hated each other, was all she had left.


	6. Chapter 6

Captain Rayford Steele, no longer dignified and haughty, curled up in a ball on his bed, rocking and sobbing. What an idiot. He'd been such a cocky, self-centered moron. And now Irene and Raymie were gone.

Not necessarily lost. He knew exactly where they were. Irene had frequently preached her Christian beliefs to him. Jesus Christ had come to rapture his church. And now Rayford Steele was among one of billions to be left behind.

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Lisa finally pried herself away from Jackson and dragged herself up to lean on the couch.

"You okay?" Lisa was shocked at the expressive concern in his voice. She nodded but still felt slightly entranced.

"I'm as good as can be expected."

"But that's not exactly ok, is it?" Jackson replied, irony lacing into his raspy low voice.

"No, its not," Lisa wiped her eyes with the edge of her sleeve. A tight knob had begun to form in her stomach.

"So do you think he died instantly, in that fire?" he mused, not rudely but more as if pointing out that he probably did to Lisa.

"He didn't die in that fire."

"I thought you said..."

"The house burned, Jackson. He wasn't in it."

"I'm lost," Jackson threw up his hands. "I thought he died, in that house, during the fi-"

"My dad was a Christian."

Jackson blinked. "That's fantastic for him, Leese. What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

"It has everythingto do with it!" she cried, intensely focusing her eyes on his. "The reason the house burned was because my dad disappeared. And do you now why he disappeared?"

Jackson shrugged. "I don't know. The guys in the whirlybird were talking aliens or nuclear reactions..."

"No!" she gripped his wrist. "My dad used to talk about it. Its Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ raptured his church, Jackson!"

Jackson ripped away from Lisa and stood up, distancing them. "If that's what gives you comfort, fine. But I'm not buying it."

"I'm not using it as a security blanket, Jackson," Lisa turned her head in disgust. "Its just the only solution that makes the most sense."

"So God took all the good people," Jackson hissed sarcastically. "That idea still has some serious holes, Leese. You're not a bad person. Why are you still here?"

Lisa deflated. "I...I don't know."

"So the master admits it," Jackson rolled his eyes coldly as Rayford stumbled back downstairs.

"Hey," he croaked. He looked a mess, his dress shirt untucked and wrinkled, his short hair tousled.

"Hi," Lisa murmured. Jackson excused himself to use the phone. Lisa scowled. Just when he'd begun to change, the damn insensitivity resurfaced again.

"Did you get in touch with your people?" Rayford leaned on the stair rail.

"Yeah. I..." tears formed in her eyes. She swallowed hard. "I'm alone. I lost my parents and a close friend."

Lines of angst crossed his face. "I'm sorry to hear that. My wife and son vanished as well. My daughter is still here though."

"That's good," Lisa encouraged, but his expression suggested otherwise. "So do you know why..."

"I have a hunch," he pulled his jacket off the coatrack.

"Where are you going?" Lisa stood alongside him.

"To find some answers," he replied fiercely. "You coming?"

Lisa glanced at Jackson's back to her in the hallway. Screw him. Nothing he could do to stop her now.

"Yeah," she followed him out the door without telling Jackson. "I'm coming."

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Chloe finally arrived at her house after a short plane ride. She didn't see her father's car and grew worried. Running to the house and flinging open the door, she cried, "Mom! Dad! Raymie!"

A thin man in a suit entered the foyer through the kitchen.

"Who are you?" she yelped. The man frowned. "Why are you in my house?"

"Your house?" he scowled. "Are you related to the guy who lives here?"

"I'm his daughter," her hands snaked behind her back for an umbrella. "Who are you?"

"Friend, I guess," he shrugged coldly. "Where's Lisa?"

"Who's Lisa?"

"We're staying here," the man snapped.

"How do I know you're not a looter?"

"Do I look like a looter?"

"What's my dad's name?"

"Ray...Raymond...something..." Chloe didn't hesitate to swing the makeshift weapon at him. He growled and yanked it away, then grabbed her by the shoulders.

"Listen," he yelled. "I've had enough of being physically assaulted within the past year. I'm starting to get pissed off, little girl, and if you don't believe me just wait until your fucking father gets home and ask him." He released her sharply and saw the tears in her eyes.

"I'm not a little girl," she grumbled. "I'm twenty."

"Fine."

"But is he...he didn't disappear?" she said hopefully. The man shook his head, his long brown hair flapping in his face.

"No. He's helping out my girlfriend and I until we can get a flight into Miami. Who, by the way, both left without telling me." Chloe eyed him, her suspicions ebbing away. But the guy was still weird, and slightly spooky.

"My mom and brother aren't here, then?"

"I don't think so. Your...dad, right? Went upstairs, for like half an hour, then came back downstairs all sad-like," he shrugged uncomfortably. "Sorry."

Chloe felt her stomach twist but hammered out introductions with the man Jackson Rippner. Then she turned on her heel and ran upstairs, hoping her initial instinct on the man was wrong.


End file.
